The Drive (Anasazi
by Sheryl Nantus
Summary: The drive to New Mexico.


All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part...I like being poor, really... 

AuthorÕs Note: Again, this is in answer to a couple of requests asking if I can fill in the blanks on the trip to New Mexico... some one drop a note to CC telling him to spend the extra cash next time and film these scenes, eh? Apologies in advance to anyone who disagrees... 

The Drive (Anasazi)by Sheryl Martin 

Dana Scully knelt down by the body. ÒMulder...Ó His eyelids fluttered once, twice. The sound of sirens hit her ears; someone had been very fast on the phone. ÒMulder!Ó Yelling into his face, she shook him by the lapels of his coat. 

ÒWhat...Ó Fox Mulder opened his eyes. He was going into shock - but she couldnÕt let him stop yet. 

ÒGet up!Ó She yelled again; the authoritarian tone she used on her students. He stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily on her as he put a hand to his bloody shoulder with a grimace. 

ÒIÕve been shot...Ó He mumbled. ÒSomeone shot me...Ó 

Dana sadly smiled, despite herself. ÒCome on.Ó Half-carrying, half-pushing him towards her car, she bundled him into the back seat. 

The red and white lights flashed around the corner as she pulled away from the curb; careful to be at the speed limit and look as normal as possible. She stared in the rearview mirror... Please donÕt let them stop her... With a sigh, she turned the corner. Mulder yelped plaintively as they hit a pothole. She had to get him someplace safe... 

Ducking into her apartment, Dana grabbed the black bag that held her medical supplies. Throwing open a cupboard, she dug through pots and pans to the small box at the back; pulling out the roll of money. If Mulder had taught her anything; it was to not leave a paper trail. Closing the door behind her, she checked on the sleeping man. He was still hot... and she had to look at that wound. 

The motel manager looked at her only a second as she paid for the room with cash; no credit card. Intentionally she requested the room furthest from the street, away from prying eyes. 

ÒMulder.Ó He opened his eyes, the sweat running down his face. ÒCome here...Ó A half-grin crossed his face; washed off by a wave of pain as he staggered free of the back seat. She took his good arm, leading him into the hotel room. 

Propping him up against the headboard, she began to cut away his shirt, ignoring his feeble protests as he tried to push her hands away. Biting her lip, Dana looked at the bullet hole. Gently pulling him forward, she noticed with relief the exit wound in his back. She didnÕt know if she could take digging a bullet out of his shoulder right now... Fox winced as she tenderly probed the gash until she was satisfied it wasnÕt serious... thank god she had been lucky with her aim. An inch either way... a shudder ran down her spine. Not like this... 

He reached up, putting his hand atop hers on his shoulder. ÒScully...Ó His fevered eyes tried to focus on her face. ÒIt hurts...Ó A childlike whimper escaped his lips. 

Nodding, Dana stroked his face gently with her fingers. ÒIÕll fix it up. You just rest.Ó He closed his eyes. 

Expertly she dressed the wound, wrapping the bandage around his chest. Touching his forehead again, she sighed. Still hot. 

Fox stirred again, his eyes slowly opening. His wild gaze ran across the room; landing on the sleeping figure beside him. He was scared; confused; sad... what was happening? Where was he? Licking his lips, he rubbed his eyes as he tried to remember what had happened. 

Dana awoke with a start, seeing him staring at her. Wiping her face with her sleeve, she reached up to softly touch his cheek. ÒShush. Go to sleep.Ó He stared at her again for a moment, his lost look scaring her to the core. Then he nodded, painfully turning onto his left side to face her. 

ÒHelp me...Ó He whispered. She nodded, tucking her arm around his waist protectively as they both drifted off. 

Four hours later they were on the road again; Fox securely strapped into the passenger seat. She had decided, against her better judgment, to give him a shot of Demoral to put him out for the drive and a shot of penicillin to stave off any possible infection. The only place she could think of was New Mexico; the idea had come to her last night. She had to go somewhere, but they would be watching her family; her friends... at least on the way to the reservation and Albert Holsteen she could think about their options. 

The trip would be long and hard enough if they were both rested and awake; but with a bullet hole in his shoulder and an unknown drug in his system... she had to keep him out for the duration of the drive. All she could hope was that the Demoral wouldnÕt react badly with the mystery drug... He stirred restlessly as she pulled off the interstate sixteen hours later into a small motel. 

The manager here wasnÕt curious in the least about a woman travelling with a drunk man she had to carry into the room. Deftly redressing the gash, she felt his forehead again. He was almost running a normal temperature... She had kept him off all food and water in the hope that his system would purify itself over time. And having him sleeping the entire drive had managed to avoid him asking her why she had shot him... 

Fox grimaced as she gently laid him back down on the bed. She could make the rest of the drive in a half-day if she could only get some more sleep. Curling up beside him on the bed, Dana closed her eyes. She was so tired; so confused... but she was with her partner, and that felt right. 

Wearily she pulled into the small town. Rubbing her eyes hard, Dana stepped out of the car. A tall Navaho stood before her. 

ÒYou made it.Ó 

She blinked. ÒAh... what?Ó 

ÒAlbert Holsteen.Ó He extended a hand. ÒI was waiting for you.Ó 

ÒYou were waiting...Ó Her vision swam from exhaustion. ÒYou knew?Ó His strong hold on her arm tightened as she slumped against the car. He smiled at her, and for a second she saw her fatherÕs smile. 

ÒTake him to the hotel. Be careful.Ó He motioned to the half-dozen men waiting in the hot sun. He put his arm around Dana. ÒYouÕre tired. Sleep first, then weÕll talk.Ó 

She began to protest, suddenly cut short by a wave of dizziness that made the world spin around her. The natives gently carried the sleeping Mulder into the hotel room, putting him on the bed. Albert led her to the front door, nodding as the men left. 

ÒIÕll work on the files while you sleep.Ó DanaÕs eyes darted to the pile of papers; her medical bag, and the filter from MulderÕs apartment building. ÒYou must sleep now.Ó She nodded, climbing wearily onto the bed. Albert smiled, putting his hand on the doorknob. ÒIÕll be back later.Ó 

She put a hand to FoxÕs forehead... normal. And the wound was healing clean and well. Stifling a yawn, she threw the remnants of his shirt to the other side of the room, letting him keep his jeans on. To hell with it... sheÕd had enough of undressing him... while he was sick, anyway. Covering herself with the blanket, she dozed off. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe... Opening her eyes quickly, she watched his peaceful face. Reaching out, she drew her fingers tenderly down his cheek. ÒSleep well, Mulder. I get the feeling itÕs going to be a long time for both of us before we get this chance again...Ó 

******************************** Albert Einstein: 

"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It isthe source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is astranger, who no longer pauses to wonder and stand in rapt awe, isas good as dead." 


End file.
